


That´s When We Uncover

by FarAwayInWonderland



Series: The Mundane and The Warlock [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coffee Shops, Endgame Simon Lewis/Raphael Santiago, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, No Pairings Appearing As Of Yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6655324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarAwayInWonderland/pseuds/FarAwayInWonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Raphael first met the Mundane Simon Lewis, Camille was trying to kill him. </p><p>Not the best first impression one could make. </p><p>And then Magnus threatened to kill Camille and everything kind of evolved from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That´s When We Uncover

**Author's Note:**

> Say hello to me on [tumblr.](http://realmofheavenlykings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I was overwhelmed by the positive response to the first part :D I haven´t yet made any plans as to how the main plot will continue, but I wanted to go on writing this, so I chose to write a little (lol) one-shot about what our favourite vampire was up to during Doors That Lead To Magic. 
> 
> I recommend reading the first part before this, lest you don't know what's actually going on.
> 
> I read the first three books of TMI years ago and couldn´t remember much, so this fic is based mainly on the TV show by Freeform. I really hope that I got the characters right, though :/
> 
> English isn´t my native tongue and as of yet this fic isn´t beta-ed, so I hope it won´t be that much of a torture to read through it :D

Raphael Santiago hated Camille Belcourt.

Everyone knew it. It was an open secret in the Shadow World of New York – from werewolves, over the fae to the Warlocks – they all were privy to this not-secret. As well as the vampires of his own clan who walked around the two of them on eggshells, always careful to not rouse their anger.

It was a terrifying thing to behold after all.

Even Camille knew that Raphael hated her with burning passion. In fact, she delighted in it, always rubbing into it, like an open wound. She liked the pain, the hate; needed it like addicts needed their drugs to get over the day.

They needed each other, even though neither of them would hesitate to get rid of the other if the chance should ever present itself. They were locked into a deadly dance and every move could spell death if they weren’t careful enough.

Raphael couldn’t get rid of Camille because he wasn’t powerful enough. She had already been wandering the world when riding horses was still the fastest mode of travel and over the time she had accumulated power, favours and connections that Raphael couldn’t get through. It was her reputation that kept most of the other powerful vampires away from New York. Raphael couldn’t kill her without losing that protection.

But neither could Camille kill him. He was the one that extinguished all the fires she left burning in her wake; he was the one that stroke the ruffled feathers Camille left behind in her hubris and arrogance. He was the only reason why the other Downworlders of New York hadn’t banded together and descended upon them already. Killing him would open Camille up to attacks from all sides and you could say what you wanted about the female vampire, but Camille wasn’t stupid and she knew that as well.

The other vampires of their clan just orbited around them, never getting too close to the twin suns that were Camille and him. They were waiting for one of them to show weakness, so that they could band together with the winner, hoping for rewards. There was neither love nor trust lost between the New York Clan. They were held together by Camille´s power and Raphael´s manipulations.

And so they continued dancing, waiting until one of them would misstep.

* * *

Magnus Bane hated Camille as well.

This wasn’t something that was widely known amongst the Downworlders of New York. Raphael only knew because he was Camille´s second and as such knew nearly everything about her. Many decades ago those two had had something going on which ended in blood, death and desperation like everything did with Camille.

And yet neither Camille nor Magnus could let go of each other. Immortality did that to you, Raphael supposed. When everything is fleeting – morals, lives and love – you hold onto the immutable, because it won´t leave you stranded in time, desperately trying to cling to something that wouldn’t just leave you like everything else.

Raphael was only seventy; a teenager compared to some other vampires. He hadn’t yet the chance to lose everything to the unyielding currents of time.

But back to Magnus and Camille. Whenever one of them got trouble they would turn to the other for help. They would always complain, extort and threaten, but in the end they would help each other. Because while friendship and love was fleeting, hate wasn’t. Something Raphael had learned in the decades he had been part of this world.

“Raphael,” Camille purred. Raphael hated it. Hated it how she would stalk towards him, all grace and elegance, in her dresses that would look slutty on everyone else but made Camille look even more desirable. Hated how she would say his name, so lovingly, desiring as if they wouldn’t hate each other to the bone. Hated how she would drape her arm around his shoulders, making his skin crawl in disgust.

Camille knew how he hated it, which only furthered her delight.

“What?” Raphael snapped.

“We´re going for a little house visit to our dear Magnus,” Camille smiled.

“He is ‘your’ Magnus, not mine,” Raphael corrected her. He really didn’t want to get tangled in the mess that were these two. When to giants went to war, the common folk should flee as fast as possible. Camille´s grin just widened.

“It doesn´t matter, anyway,” she brushed him off. “I hope you weren´t planning anything different or were you?” It was phrased as a question, but Raphael knew that it wasn’t meant as one. When Camille wanted something you better heeded her or she would make your life miserable. So he just nodded.

Not that he had planned something, anyway. He was a vampire, there wasn’t much he could do.

“Great!” Camille exclaimed. “Then let´s not linger any longer.” And with that they started running.

If there was one thing that Raphael loved in his existence as vampire, then it was the running. The world around him blurred as he dashed past them. Everything – cars, buildings, people – turned into meaningless forms he could just leave behind. When Raphael ran he felt like the whole world with its dangers, problems and traps couldn’t catch up to him. He felt free, indestructible and invincible. Nothing could get at him while he was running.

Of course, if Camille had any inkling of what it meant to Raphael she would make him walk like a Mundane. She lived for the challenge of destroying everything Raphael found joy in. But so did he, Raphael grinned and overtook Camille from the side. She may be the more powerful one, but when it came to running there was no one better than Raphael.

He committed the face Camille made when she couldn’t get past him to his memory, but then they were already at Magnus city mansion. They stopped and the world came back into focus with all its noise, colours and pollution.

Sometimes Raphael wished that he could just continue running and never stop.

Camille took the few steps that led up to Magnus’ door and knocked. It didn’t even take three seconds before it was opened and Magnus Bane stood before them in all his glittery glory. It spoke of the vast amount of power Magnus possessed that he could robe himself like that and still be taken seriously by everyone.

“Camille,” Magnus exclaimed with mock-enthusiasm. “I can´t say that I´m happy to see you, because I´m not a cold-hearted, lying bitch, but beggars can´t be choosers, hmm?”

 _And it begins_ , Raphael thought to himself.

“It´s no lie when I tell that it´s nice to see you, Raphael,” Magnus continued and winked at him. “ _Definitely_ no lie.” Raphael just shrugged. He was used to the Warlock´s overtures and he had long since found comfort in his ‘celibate’ ways, as Magnus liked to call it with much frustration. He didn’t need love nor sex – it just made everything messy and complicated.

You just had to look at Camille and Magnus to see that.

“Won´t you let us in, darlin’?” Camille interrupted and Raphael could practically see how Magnus steeled himself – the indifference that suddenly settled over his features and the cold glint that shone through his eyes.

“Of course,” he replied through gritted teeth. He stepped aside and beckoned for them to come in. Power play at its finest, Raphael thought drily, it put Magnus at their backs. Either Camille hadn’t notched (which Raphael doubted very much) or she just didn’t care (more probable) for she just walked straight towards the room in which Magnus usually did business with them. It was the nearest to the entrance door, another subtle tweak, so that they couldn’t see the rest of his lair.

Camille draped herself over one of the couches like she belonged there – and who knows, maybe she did once? – her dress revealing much, but never too much. She lured you in with the promise of more and the moment you realized that you were trapped it was already too late.

Raphael took the seat beside her, as far away as possible, but still near enough to present a united front. Magnus had no such reservations and took the seat furthest away from the female vampire.

“So, Magnus,” Camille purred, twirling a strand of her hair with her fingers, “how may I be of service to you?”

“You see,” Magnus started, “I find myself in possession of a book after which certain parties may or may not be seeking for.” That rose Camille´s interest. If there was one positive thing to say about her – and it pained Raphael much to admit that – then it would be her love for books. She literally killed for them, Raphael had witnessed it. He knew that she possessed a whole library somewhere in New York, filled with tomes that some thought long to be lost, but she would never disclose the location to him.

“So, the Clave is burning books again?” Camille remarked and Magnus just nodded. “What ‘dangerous’ knowledge found its way into your library this time?”

“You know me,” Magnus smiled, “I´ve come around much in my time. And I´ve raided some other warlocks’ mansions which may have entailed some works about necromancy.” Raphael´s eyebrows rose at that. Necromancy was considered the darkest form of magic and any mention of it was fervently destroyed by both Clave and Downworlders. That Magnus possessed such dark works – well, it seemed Raphael had to reconsider the Warlock after all. “It seemed that someone tipped the Cave off that such works were still in circulation.”

Camille, meanwhile, was enraptured. She may try to hide it, but Raphael could see it in the sudden stillness of her posture. Normally Camille was always moving – twirling her hair, fluttering her eyelashes, running her tongue over her snow white teeth – but now not a single part of her body was moving.

“And yours is the first place they would look at,” Camille stated. Magnus just nodded.

“Why should I take the books when the Clave is after them?” Camille asked innocently.

“Camille,” Magnus sighed. “We both now that you´ll take the books because you hate what the Clave does to them more than you love being an annoying inconvenience for me.” Raphael knew that Magnus had her there. Camille would rather bite off her own tongue than allow some Shadowhunter heathens to destroy books. She would agree to Magnus request.

“What do I get out of it?” she pouted instead.

“What you always get,” Magnus replied and Camille just smiled. Whatever Magnus and Camille had long ago agreed on as pay for their respective services – sex, money, favours, Raphael didn’t really know – apparently it was enough for Camille.

“Then I´ll go and catch them for you,” Magnus announced. Camille just raised one of her perfect eyebrows at him.

“Why not just –“ she waved with her hand “– magic it in the room?” she asked.

“Because,” Magnus replied, “I keep them under lock in a magic impervious environment so that no one may find them.” And without giving them the chance to add anything else, he turned around and stalked out of the room.

Raphael used the chance and turned to Camille.

“Why are we even here?” he asked. “This could be a trap. The Clave won´t just stop looking after books about necromancy!” Camille just grinned.

“Magnus has them after him now,” Camille replied. “He desperately wants them far away from him. That´s the best leverage I got over him since Budapest.”

“Why would he give it to you then?” Raphael asked disbelievingly. If Camille came to that conclusion, Magnus must have been there years ago.

“Because,” the Camille drawled, “now that everyone is after it, he has to get rid of it before someone comes to the logical conclusion that it´s in his possession. And there are only a few that know of our…past acquaintance.”

Raphael wanted to add something else, but Camille stopped him when she held one finger in front of her mouth which beckoned for him to stay silent. Slowly, like she was stalking her prey, Camille stood up and walked towards the closed door. Now that Raphael wasn’t distracted he recognized it as well; the faint sound of a beating heart and the smell of blood so fresh and virginal that it could have come straight from Heaven.

With her inherent vampire speed and strength, Camille threw up the door and grabbed whoever stood behind it. Raphael mustered the person Camille was pressing against the wall for a few moments. A boy with round black glasses, bright brown eyes and slight curly hair in the same colour. He wore faded jeans and a bright blue t-shirt that told the onlooker in bright red letters that the Avengers would assemble – whoever this group of people were. He shook like a leave in Camille´s grip, which told Raphael that he was already smarter than most of Camille´s victims.

“Look, who´s been loitering outside the door,” Camille remarked. “I could never mistake the smell of fresh blood.” She smiled at the boy – _a mundane!_ –  whose eyes nearly bulged out their sockets when he saw the two fangs protruding from the girl´s upper jaw.

“Camille, you probably shouldn’t…” Raphael spoke up. Why couldn’t Camille control herself? Not even Raphael would be able to mend fences with the most powerful warlock in the western hemisphere if Camille killed someone in his own home. The fate of the whole clan was at risk!

“Don´t tell me what to do, Raphael,” Camille snapped. “It is I who leads the New York Coven, not you.” Raphael had to hold back a snarl of his own.

 _Perra estúpida_ , he cursed in his mind, _me telling you what to do is the only reason why our clan still exists! You´d kill us all just because you´re too weak to control your urges!_

But Raphael kept silent.

“Look,” the boy stuttered. “It´s obvious that you two have some issues you need to deal with, so maybe you should just let me go and talk about it like two mature…vampires?” Raphael´s gaze snapped back towards the boy who just interrupted them.

He was either very stupid or very brave…probably both, Raphael supposed. He always found bravery quite distasting. It made you taking unnecessary risks. There was no need for bravery if you were cunning enough.

“Now, why would we let go such a fine human specimen?” Camille practically purred.

“That doesn’t sound like a compliment coming from you,” the Mundane quipped back. Raphael´s eyebrows rose even further. The boy was obviously stupidly brave, because no one talked to Camille like that. They all fell to her charm in the end. He felt some kind of – admiration? Kinship? He didn’t know – for the boy who wouldn’t. Even though it would probably spell his death.

“This one has spunk,” Camille exclaimed. “I love when they think they can fight.”

“Camille,” Raphael interjected. “We´re guests in the High Warlock´s mansion. You shouldn’t do anything that could be construed as violation of guest rights.” He had to stop Camille. He had assumed – hoped – that this was just a game to her, trying to cow the Mundane, but now it seemed as if she would really harm him. Magnus would annihilate them!

“Don´t be such a spoilsport, Raphael,” Camille chided. “Magnus probably send him this way as a little present for us.” _No, he wouldn’t_ , Raphael though but he didn’t say it. Camille was beyond reasoning now. Maybe he could heave the blame on her? Use Magnus to get rid of Camille once and for all?

Any further action Raphael may have contemplated were thrown out the window when – with a loud bang – the door burst open. Fast – even faster than a vampire – Magnus had Camille grabbed at her throat.

“Let him go,” he said without any emotion in his voice. “And maybe I´ll think about letting you leave unharmed.” Raphael could literally smell the power that came off Magnus in waves. It felt like fire, heat, thousand burning suns and told of unimaginable pain and suffering its wielder could inflict upon those that he deemed a threat. Raphael had to pull together every little shred of his composure in order to not fall on the ground, begging for mercy like a child.

Camille let go of the boy (who fell to the ground like a sack potatoes) and if Raphael was still able to breath he would have sighed in relief. _His_ obliteration had been averted at least. And yet, even though the Mundane was out of danger, Magnus didn’t let go off Camille. He just looked at her, his gaze undiscernible, like she was nothing more than an annoying bug, like every bit of humanity had been sucked out of him.

This wasn’t Magnus Bane the eccentric and glitter loving party animal; no, this was a century-old Warlock on warpath. And Camille had been foolish enough to challenge him. 

“Now, Magnus,” Camille purred, a cheap smile on her face. “Let´s not be hasty, shall we? We can talk about this like civilized people.”

“Civilized people don´t try to kill others in houses not belonging to them,” Magnus replied ice cold. “So, I ask you again, why shouldn’t I just end you right where you are standing?” The smile fell from Camille´s face and was replaced by a cold and calculating expression.

“Because you´d be breaking the Accords,” Camille sneered. “If you killed any other vampire, no one would bother to investigate. But the High Warlock of Brooklyn killing the clan leader of New York´s vampires in his own home? That certainly wouldn’t be swiped under the rug. And then, sooner or later, they would find your pet mundane.” She laughed, a dry and mocking sound. “Because that’s what he is, isn’t he? He has no affiliation to the Shadow World but you. You have told him about us without any reason.

You opened yourself wide up for impeachment, of the more violent kind, if I might add,” Camille taunted. “Only that this time – after all the shit you pulled – it won´t end up just with you being chased out of town. No, this time they´ll kill you. And your mundane probably as well.

So, you see, Magnus, you can kill me and I´d be completely powerless to stop you. But you won´t,” Camille ended her speech, looking triumphant.

 _She´s getting out of it_ , Raphael realized. _She nearly killed someone in his own house and she´s getting out of it._ Because she was right; of course, Camille was _fucking_ right! Killing her would be like an open invitation to the Clave who would love nothing more than to have a reason to have something on Magnus that they could use to get rid of him.

Magnus seemed to have come to the same conclusion as well for he suddenly let go off Camille and let her fall on the ground. Gracefully picking herself up – because, of course, Camille could even make something like that look graceful! – Camille just stood there as if nothing had happened. And maybe that was exactly how she thought of it. Nothing.

“I knew you would see reason,” Camille said. “We´ll come back when you cooled off.” She turned her smile towards the Mundane. “Maybe, we´ll see each other again.”

“I sure hope not,” the boy shot back. Raphael could appreciate that. And then two vampires were gone – a blur, running into the night.

* * *

“He would have killed me!” Camille exclaimed as she paced back and forth. Raphael lounged on the couch and tried his best to hide his amusement at the other vampire´s consternation. “He would have killed me over some unimportant mundane!” Her fangs were showing, a clear sign of her agitation and one that didn’t spell anything positive. An unrestrained Camille only led to nastiness.

“Well,” Raphael drawled. “That tends to happen when you try to kill someone in their home.” Maybe he had overestimated Camille´s intelligence all the time if she couldn’t pick up on that simple fact on her own. Camille, meanwhile, just shot him an irritated glare, to which Raphael was used to.

“There has to be another reason,” Camille murmured. “An ulterior motive why Magnus keeps that boy around.”

“Or maybe he just made a new friend?” Raphael suggested. _God knows, I´d do the same if I only knew you_.

“Please,” Camille snorted, “we talk about Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Why should he seek company of those beneath him?”

 _Maybe because some of us don´t categorize people after the use you have for them_ , Raphael thought. _Some of us aren’t so high on power, so detached from life, that we see nothing but things to be played with. Some of us just don’t want to be lonely._

But he didn’t say anything. Like always. His thoughts were the last refuge left to him.

“After your actions today he definitely won´t tell you,” he pointed out instead.

“Who says that it is Magnus I want the information from?” Camille smirked and a new wave of dread washed over Raphael.

“Camille,” he hissed. “You´re bordering close to breaking the Accords.” If she went after the Mundane the Clave would be nothing but happy to kill her.

“Oh, it won´t be me,” Camille purred.

“No,” Raphael shot back. He wouldn’t do Camille´s dirty work – work that could very well get him killed or worse. “No,” he repeated.

“Yes, you will,” Camille remarked with a certainty that spoke volumes about her consideration of Raphael´s objections.

“I smelled it on him, you know,” Camille whispered into his ear, her breath ghosting over his skin as she stood behind the couch, “how sweet he was for me, how aroused, even though I was about to drink from him. His will may be strong enough to resist me when he feared for his life, but it won´t be enough to save him when someone tries to lure him in while he feels himself safe.” She ran one of her fingers over Raphael´s shoulder down his arm. He let it happen, even though the disgust he felt was strong enough to be a physical sensation.

“Make him sweet for you,” Camille continued. “I want all of his – all of _Magnus’_ – secrets spilling in your lap. You know what happens if you don’t.” Raphael didn’t want to. It was a violation – it was _rape_ – using vampire powers like that. It was vile, an affront to everything Raphael believed and stood for and yet he would do it.

Because he knew what Camille would do if he didn’t.

She would break the Mundane and he would thank her for it. He would kiss her feet while she tore out his heart. He would love her while she unmade him.

That was what Camille was:  A void, an abyss, puling you in until nothing was left of you but an empty husk.

_Our Father who art in heaven…_

“Do not disappoint me,” Camille said and stalked out of the room.

* * *

Finding the Mundane wasn’t difficult. Raphael just had to follow the scent from Magnus’ door to a little coffee shop away from the main bustle of the city. There he sat, head buried in his phone, completely unaware of the dangers that lured outside.

 _No_ , Raphael corrected himself, not unaware in general. Just unaware of this particular one. With one last look at the overcast night sky, he catapulted himself off the building, landing directly in front of the shop. Before anyone could notice him, he wafted through the crowd and took the seat in front of the Mundane.

The boy looked up. His eyes widened and yet the only thing escaping his mouth was an exasperated sigh.

“What are you doing here, Raphael?” the boy wanted to know of the vampire. Then: “Why are you even able to be here, the sun is shining out…” He looked out of the window and his eyes widened even further when he noticed that it was completely dark outside. Raphael didn’t suppress the grin that made it on his face. Mouthing off to Camille, forgetting the time, hanging around Magnus…maybe this Mundane was more interesting than he first had thought?

“Magnus made it perfectly clear that I´m off limits,” the boy said. Yet Raphael could see perfectly through his mask of false bravado. The nervous fidgeting, the hectic gaze; it gave him away. “Thinking about it, so do the Accords.”

 _Ah, a smart one,_ Raphael thought amused. Invoking both Magnus and the Accords when he knew exactly that these two were the only things that guaranteed his safety. Still able to think, even under duress.

“Believe me, if I could I´d be anywhere but here with you,” Raphael drawled. It was no lie. He found no pleasure in what Camille wanted him to do and neither did he like the presence of annoying mundanes. They just reminded him of what he had lost so many decades ago; of what he could never hope to regain back.

It was for the best if their worlds stayed separated.

“Do vampires even need to breath?” the boy mumbled, absorbed in his thoughts.

“We have no need for it, _idiota_ ” Raphael replied.

“Then why are you even here, if you don’t want to?” the boy shut back. “’Cause you can believe me when I say that I have better things to do then letting myself be insulted by some snobbish vampire with a ‘holier than thou’ attitude.” The boy sniggered at his own joke and if Raphael had had any less composure he would have rolled his eyes at this immaturity. And this was what he had to deal with!

“The Accords may forbid us from harming mundanes,” Raphael started to talk as if he was explaining something very simple to someone very stupid. “But it doesn’t forbid us from _conversing_ with them.” The Mundane stared at him incredulously.

“How stupid do you think I am?” the boy questioned.

 _That depends,_ Raphael thought, _you were taunting Camille while she was ready to kill you. You know how to use the Accords, you made yourself a home with Magnus, one of the most powerful beings on the East Coast. You wear plaid._ Instead he just shot the boy his most annoyed look.

“For reason that escape me, Camille thinks that she can get information about Magnus out of you,” Raphael explained. “As you and her don’t really have a rapport going on –“ the Mundane snorted his coffee through his nose at this description “– she decided that I had to be the one to go and talk to you.”

_She wanted me to rape you. Wanted me to make you pliable, high on pheromones and blood._

“Well, that woman certainly is obsessed with Magnus,” the Mundane. “But doesn´t you telling me all this defeat the purpose of making me trust you – which, by the way, will never happen – and spill all of Magnus’ secrets into your lap?”

Raphael could have said something different; something that would have made the boy trust him. He could have made the boy let go of every secret he knew and he would have done it gladly. But Raphael wasn’t so cynical – _so cold_ – he wasn’t Camille. Even though it had been many decades since he had been a wide-eyed teenager who thought that the world was only waiting to be conquered, he still remembered how used, how broken, how small and weak he had felt when he had finally recognized that he had been just a plaything for those more powerful and experienced than he. Just an insignificant piece on the chessboard. He liked to think that, even though he was a vampire, he could still hold on to the morals his mother had taught him; that she had instilled in him with a smile on her lips and the Bible flipped open on her lap.

What would she have thought of him if she knew what he was doing? What he nearly had done?

“ _Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo, santificado sea tu nombre,_ ” Raphael muttered under his breath. The boy opposite of him just looked at him quizzically.

“It is Camille´s plan, not mine,” Raphael replied. “I won´t tarnish myself by pretending that I am actually interested in anything you have to say.” Mundane lives were just so…shallow. Chasing after fame, riches or power. You only recognized how useless those things were when you had so much of it at your disposal that it didn’t matter anymore.

This one would be the same. Going to college, marrying his childhood sweetheart, 2,3 children, a dog and two cars in a soulless suburb somewhere in the Mid-West, the biggest highlight of the year Thanksgiving until he would die of a heart attack with seventy-two.

So predictable. So boring.

“Wow, Raph, deep wound, right here,” the Mundane exclaimed and clutched his chest with one hand. Raphael had to hold himself back from baring his fangs at the boy for that juvenile taunting. “And I thought we were hitting right off.”

“You´re the most aggravating, annoying…” Raphael started. Couldn’t the mundane take the situation more seriously? And calling him – the second-in-command of the New York vampire clan – by such a degrading nickname! Raphael had destroyed lives for less.

“Simon!” The voice tore through his mind like a hot knife through butter. A petite red-haired girl made her way towards them. She was quite striking, Raphael supposed, with her hair that crowned her head like a crown of molten sunshine and sparkling green eyes, her skin decorated with freckles. “I´ve been searching for you for hours. Did you really forget that we wanted to do the stupid presentation Ms Crawford gave us? You probably did, didn’t you?”

“Oh, I´m so sorry,” she stammered as her gaze fell upon Raphael sitting opposite of Simon. “I didn’t know I was interrupting something.”

“What are you talking about?” the Mundane boy asked, his brow creased in confusion. Raphael couldn’t believe his bad luck; the boy was completely unaware of how they appeared to the onlooker. What person could miss something like that? How clueless could you be? _Idiota_. What was Magnus thinking? “I´m sorry I forgot the presentation! I was just…”

“I´m so sorry,” the red-head repeated, this time at Raphael. “And you are…?” She left the question hanging in the air.

“About to go,” Raphael answered curtly. If the Mundane´s friend was anything like the boy himself, Raphael would stake himself to escape the inane chatter those two would certainly produce. And he definitely didn’t want to stay just to see the boy´s horrible attempts at flirting if the gazes he sent the girl – to which she was completely oblivious – were anything to go by.

But Raphael wouldn’t be Raphael if he wasn’t a petty little bastard. So, when he was about to go, he put his best smile on his face and turned around. “It was so nice meeting you, Simon.” To cap it all off he ended the whole thing with a wink at the stammering boy. Before he could react, though, Raphael had already vanished into the night.

* * *

“He´s more resilient than we thought,” Raphael told Camille when he came back to the hotel. Camille just continued sipping from her glass, filled to the brim with blood. “He didn’t go for it.”

“Then you´ll just have to try harder, won´t you,” Camille replied without any compassion. “After all, you have all the time of the world.” Raphael didn’t reply. He just turned around and left the room, furious that Camille wouldn’t just let the whole thing go.

* * *

“The girl I love thinks I´m dating you,” Simon seethed the next time he met Raphael.

“How would she arrive at that particular conclusion?” Raphael drawled, just to get a rise out of the other boy. For a short moment Raphael saw hot rage flaring up behind these brown bespectacled eyes and for a split second he was sure that the Mundane would try to hit him. A futile thing, of course, but entertaining, nevertheless.

“Can you just…stop?” Simon pleaded. “I´m really not in the mood for you today.” Raphael didn’t know why – maybe it was the despair that the boy extruded; the melancholy in his eyes; his weak and pleading tone – but he did.

* * *

“I´m still waiting for results of your little Mundane wooing campaign.” Raphael looked up from the book he was currently reading – he didn’t know how many times he had already read it; too many probably – to see Camille leaning in the doorway, eying him critically. “It has been nearly two weeks already.” Raphael shut the book and stood up. Always face Camille on equal footing, otherwise you had already lost.

“He´s currently not receptive,” he replied evenly. “You must have been a teenager once as well, Camille, haven’t you? You know how it is, do you; all these feelings and hormones tearing at you and turning you into an utter mess.” He flashed a grin at her. Camille just huffed in frustration and walked out of his room.

With certain satisfaction, Raphael slammed the door shut behind her.

* * *

Raphael didn’t know why, but a few days later he found himself back at the coffee shop where he had found Simon the first time. The Mundane wasn’t in there, of course, why would he and yet Raphael couldn’t shake off the feeling that it meant something that it had drawn him here. New York was a big city after all, and still he found himself staring through the windows, watching the mundanes sitting at the tables, talking, smiling, at each other, so oblivious to the dangerous predator that stood just a few metres away from them.

“What are you doing here, vampire?” Raphael sighed. The stench of wet dog curled in his nose and he didn’t even try to hide the disgust showing on his face.

Werewolves, he thought sourly, were truly pathetic excuses of Downworlders. No class, no style and the smell…

But maybe it was just his envy poisoning Raphael´s thoughts. Werewolves could still walk under the sun and bask in her light without bursting into flames. They could still walk amongst humanity and not be tempted by the blood pounding underneath frail skin, devoured by their own hunger as Vampires often were.

“That´s no business of yours,” Raphael remarked. The werewolf, meanwhile, had stopped in his tracks just a few steps away from him. Raphael examined him more closely; black skin, around thirty years old, neat shirt and jeans and on his belt a police badge of the New York Police Department.

“Oh, it definitely is,” the werewolf shot back. “We hadn’t any vampires here for years. And it should stay that way.”

“You can´t restrict my freedom of movement,” Raphael stated. “Neither on the ground of the Accords nor on Mundane law. I´m free to go wherever I want to.” He bared his fangs at the werewolf whose eyes flashed green in response.

“If anyone vanishes around here, I´ll know where to look,” the werewolf responded. Raphael acknowledged the veiled threat with a short nod of his head. The werewolf continued on his way while Raphael took a last glance through the windows before he, too, departed from the scene.

* * *

Black eyes stared into brown ones.

“Well, that´s awkward,” the Mundane commented as he took a sip from his drink. “You´re still on your crusade to get information out of me?” It was Tuesday night and again they found themselves in the same coffee as before.

Raphael refrained from answering. He could have said that Camille had slowly but surely given up on the boy having any useful information at all. He could have said that his clan leader had abducted a few junkies from the streets of New York and was currently getting high with the rest of the clan; something Raphael didn’t want to participate in. He could have said that being here had been the only excuse for him to leave the Durmont without rousing Camille´s suspicion.

Instead he just tilted his head. Should the mundane make out of it whatever he wanted.

“Then it falls upon me to inform you that you shall never reach your villainous goals,” the Mundane proclaimed in some fake-accent Raphael didn’t recognise.

“There´s literally no one who talks like that,” Raphael commented, somehow amused.

“How would you know?” the boy asked, eying Raphael suspiciously. “People during the Middle Ages could have very well talked like that….” He paused and his eyes widened. “Wait…you aren’t really that old, aren’t you? You weren’t alive, like, during the Black Death. That would have royally sucked. You aren’t a royal either, are you? Because, let me tell you, I won´t use any honorifics. Not for the Queen of England and certainly not for you. I´m a proud republican. Not the party, of course, who in his right mind would support those old, racist, white farts; I mean republicans as in someone who supports democratic republics.”

“No, I was not born in the Middle Ages,” Raphael interrupted the boy just to make him shut up. If he had learned anything about the Mundane then it was that he would _literally_ not shut up if someone didn’t make him. He would talk on and on and on and Raphael just couldn’t bear it.

“When then?” the boy inquired. “Civil War? World War I? The Golden Twenties? World War II? The good old fifties?” Raphael didn’t reply.

“Come on,” the Mundane whined. “You can´t keep me hanging like this!”

“Why do you even want to know?” Raphael wanted to know. The Mundane just gave him what should probably an exasperated gaze, but it just looked like he had eaten something putrid.

“Dude,” he replied, with extra emphasise on the ‘u’. “First-hand account of historical events.”

“I didn’t life through many important events,” Raphael admitted. Not like Camille, born in the early 1800s who could claim to have treaded amongst nobility as well as amongst the unimaginable rich and powerful during times of great upheaval.

“Anything must have been more interesting than what we have now,” the Mundane muttered.

“That´s a common sentiment throughout time,” Raphael replied. “And still, what most fail to grasp is how lucky they are. The past isn’t as glorious as many want to believe.”

The Mundane was silent after that, mulling over what Raphael had said.

Small mercies, at least.

* * *

The next time Raphael returned it wasn’t the Mundane who was sitting at the table.

It was Magnus Bane.

“Raphael,” the Warlock greeted him pleasantly. “Please, sit down.” Aware that you didn’t just deny the High Warlock of Brooklyn anything, especially if he was the one who sought you out, Raphael did as he was told.

“Anything to drink?” Magnus continued making small talk. “I´m especially fond of the expresso they make here. Goes directly to the brain and keeps you up for forty-two hours straight.” If there was one thing Raphael was sure he wouldn’t want to live through, then it was definitely Magnus Bane on a caffeine high.

“No, thank you,” Raphael declined his offer. Then he kept quiet, waiting for Magnus to make the opening move. Magnus, though, had no inclination to do anything, sipping slowly on his espresso.

“Ah,” he sighed. “You have to value the little things in life.” Raphael just observed the Warlock opposite of him warily.

“You´re probably asking yourself why I´m here,” Magnus remarked.

“It did cross my mind,” Raphael replied evenly.

“Well,” Magnus continued. “It has come to my attention that you and Simon had a few nightly rendezvous in this little coffee. Simon, in his endless naiveté, thought that he could keep it a secret from me. But, as you are aware yourself, secrets are very difficult to keep around me.”

“Is this an intervention?” Raphael asked incredulously.

“Don´t joke about it,” Magnus snapped, any trace of amusement gone from his voice. “I´ve spent the last years raising Simon into the boy he is today and I won´t have him ruined over some of Camille´s machinations. I won´t have anyone harm him!”

“You once said that about me as well,” Raphael said barely above a whisper.

“I did,” Magnus replied, his gaze not focused on him, instead gazing towards something Raphael couldn’t see. A memory, maybe? “But you grew up to be the second-in-command in Camille´s clan. There´s barely anything left from the boy I once held back from walking into the sun.”

 _Camille killed that boy_ , Raphael thought, _she took him in and soaked him in cruelty, depravity and blood until he drowned. I am what is left of him._

“So, you want to make sure that I don´t debase your new project,” Raphael spit out and he regretted the words the moment they left his lips. Magnus’ face just shut down, no trace of emotion left. It was like sitting before a complete stranger. He shouldn’t have said that. Magnus was the only reason he was still alive. It wasn’t his fault that Camille had done what she had done. They both were immortal; they couldn’t hold onto each other forever. Who was he to deny Magnus friendship when he had spent the last decades in isolation?

“Just be aware,” Magnus said, spitting each word out like it was poison. “That our previous acquaintance won´t save you from my wrath should anything nefarious happen to Simon under your watch.” He slammed a Dollar bill on the table and stomped out of the coffee.

Raphael just sat there and wondered if he just had lost the only person he could hesitantly call a friend.

* * *

“You´re quiet,” the Mundane commented. “I mean, more quiet than usual. I´d even dare to say that you´re moping.”

“I´m not moping,” Raphael protested. He wasn’t, definitely. He was a Child of the Night, a vampire renowned along the whole East Coast. He did not mope!

“Look,” the Mundane continued. “If it´s any consolidation to you, Magnus is as miserable as you. You two are The Miserable Duo, The Duo of Miserableness.”

“How do you even know that Magnus has anything to do with my current mood?” Raphael demanded to know.

“You´re moping, he´s moping,” the boy explained. “You´re calling him Magnus, he told me stories about how he helped out a fledgling once. I – smart mind that I am – combine these facts and have you confirm them with your reaction. That´s spot-on detective work, like the stepdad of a friend of mine showed me once…” He probably would have continued talking if Raphael hadn’t made him shut up by placing his hand on his mouth.

“Please,” he pressed out exhausted. “Just stop talking.” He put his hand away and – _thank God_ – the Mundane didn’t continue talking. They sat there in silence for a while, just the vampire and the Mundane.

“Y´know,” the boy said calmly, “Magnus would forgive you. You´re both just too stubborn to make the first step.” Raphael, not really in the mood for any advice coming from the mouthy Mundane, just hissed at him.

“Okay, okay,” the boy exclaimed defeated. “I´ll stop giving you my sage advice.”

* * *

“You´re still consorting with Magnus’ mundane,” Camille stated and if Raphael´s heart was still beating it would have stopped now. “I thought it has become apparent that there aren´t any secrets he could share.” Her gaze upon Raphael sharpened. “Or is it about something different, mmh?”

Raphael just stood there, grinding his teeth and trying to turn Camille into a pile of ash with the power of the hate cursing through his veins.

“It isn´t about the mission I gave you,” Camille continued, delighted in the chance to pick into Raphael´s mind. “It´s about the mundane, isn´t it? Oh, Raphael,” she cooed – a disgusting, false sound – patting his cheek. “Your very first mundane. Be careful with him; they tend to shatter so easily under a vampire´s hand.” Then she threw back her head and laughed, cold and cruel, like the person underneath the beautiful exterior.

* * *

Magnus was waiting at the table that had become the Mundane´s and Raphael´s on Tuesday´s nights. When Raphael saw the Warlock he wanted to turn around on his heels and leave immediately, but then a small voice in his head whispered ‘ _First steps, you´re both too stubborn for the first step_ ’ and so he didn’t turn around; instead he continued and sat down in front of Magnus.

“Simon forced me to come,” Magnus explained in lieu of an actual greeting. “He was very insistent.”

“He talked to me as well,” Raphael admitted. The following silence between the two Downworlders could be described with nothing but awkward.

“I´m sorry for what I said,” Raphael finally relented. “I shouldn’t have. You were the one who saved me and I went on to rise in Camille´s clan without bothering to look back. I shouldn’t have faulted you for forging new connections after all these years.” For a short moment Magnus said nothing.

“I accept your apology,” he finally said. “I shouldn’t have tried to give you the dad speech. I may have been a little bit…overeager.” Raphael just snorted.

“That´s the understatement of the century,” he just commented.

“Don´t say something like that,” Magnus chided him. “After all, the century isn´t over yet.” A short moment of silence. “How long do you think would it have taken without Simon pushing?” Raphael didn’t need to ask what Magnus was referring to.

“I don´t know,” he remarked. “Years probably. You´re an epic sulk after all.” Magnus just threw a napkin at him.

“Then I´m quite glad that he was so insistent.” Raphael was as well. But he wouldn’t admit that out loud.

Quite a curious mundane, this Simon.

* * *

Raphael couldn’t pinpoint why or when, but somehow the nightly meetings with Simon became his refuge. When Camille´s eyes were too cold, her smile too cruel, when the other vampires were high on blood and drugs and the werewolves again trying to kill them he would find himself in the little coffee shop on Tuesday nights, conversing with the boy as if they were lifelong friends.

Simon didn’t expect anything from him. Didn’t demand anything that Raphael wasn’t willing to give. If Raphael didn’t feel like talking he would fill the silence with his chatter about things Raphael didn’t care about, but when he was the one to say them Raphael listened. And if Raphael wanted to talk Simon sat quiet and listened to him.

He didn’t judge. And in Raphael´s world that was everything.

Of course, they didn’t talk about the really serious stuff. Simon was still guarded around him, still didn’t tell him anything about Magnus or his family and Raphael never let down his walls either. But it was enough that Raphael felt like he could suffer through another week of Camille.

He could understand why Magnus appreciated the presence of the mundane. No duplicity, no hidden agenda, no secrecy – a rare thing to be found.

* * *

“I really think that Dumbledore is shady as fuck,” Simon babbled. “There are just too many inconsistencies for that not to be the case. I mean, Arabella Figg seriously never noticed that the child she was babysitting was mistreated and malnourished and never told Dumbledore? McGonagall or, hell, even Snape never bothered to drop by and have a look? And what was he thinking when he sent Hagrid of all people to collect Harry? That was either incompetence or straight up manipulation from the start, I tell you!” He waved about with his fork that Raphael was seriously worried about Simon stabbing either himself or Raphael. He was very passionate about the whole topic.

“I literally have no clue what you´re talking about,” Raphael admitted nonchalantly in one of the few pauses in-between Simon´s rant. Simon´s eyes widened in horror at that declaration.

“What!?” he stood up and screeched which made some of the other late-night customers look at them with admonishment. “Are you telling me you´ve never read Harry Potter.”

“I guess so,” Raphael smirked. Simon sat down, completely flabbergasted.

“Heathen!”

* * *

The next time five books were lying on the table.  

“Read them!” Simon hissed. Raphael just rolled his eyes at the boy.

* * *

Raphael laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling as the sounds of the other vampires drifted through the close door. The ecstatic moan of the junkies Camille had brought here as they were drained of blood, the sound of fangs tearing through flesh, of blood smacking on the ground, the greedy sucking of the other vampires.

It was a cacophony of gluttony. The disgust Raphael felt for his fellow clan members coiled within his stomach, growing stronger with each moan and he couldn’t believe how low Camille had brought them.

_Panem et circenses. Panem et circenses._

Raphael tilted his head to the side and his gaze locked onto the books Simon had given him, still lying on the table where he had put them the moment he had come back here. He didn’t really want to read them. He didn’t need books about magic and monsters. He already had more than enough of both.

Another moan. Something shattered. Camille laughed.

Raphael took the book and opened it on the first page.

_‘Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense.’_

* * *

“You´re right,” Raphael conceded. “That Dumbledore character is shady.”

“I know, right?” Simon replied. “What do you liked best?” Raphael thought about it.

“That Harry escaped and found a place and people worth fighting for.” Simon didn’t say anything after that.

* * *

Simon wore a black shirt. In big white letter it proclaimed: “Vampire in training”. Raphael turned on his heels and left the coffee to Simon´s peals of laughing.

* * *

“So, tomorrow´s a big day for you, isn´t it?” Raphael drawled. “Mundanes put much emphasis on their 18th birthdays.” Simon looked up from the book that was lying in his lap.

“Still as bland as your teint, Raphy?” Simon snarked back and even after two years he still managed to annoy Raphael with that stupid nickname. “And I´d think that even you have heard of birthdays, don´t you.”

“It were the Great Seven when I was young,” Raphael replied, “with 7 you were a child no longer, with 14 you became an adult, with 21 you were old and if you still lived beyond 28 you were lucky.”

“That was…like back in the middle ages,” Simon protested. “You were born in the late 30ies. I think they already had birthdays back then.” Raphael just smirked and sat down right in front of Simon. It has to be said that he could annoy Simon as much as the Mundane could annoy him.

“Does Camille know that you´re here?” Simon inquired after he had taken a sip from his coffee.

“She does not care about my whereabouts any longer,” Raphael replied. She still thought that Simon was his ‘plaything’, a temporary distraction that he would get rid of when he got bored. Like she did with all of her previous mundane acquaintances. Every time she mentioned it, it rose Raphael´s hackles because Simon wasn’t just a distraction, something to use. He was one of the few people Raphael was actually willing to call a friend.

“Aw,” Simon cooed. “Did Mommy and Daddy get into a fight?” Like every time Simon called them that Raphael´s lip twitched as he had to suppress the urge to just hiss at Simon for such a disgusting assumption.

“Can I ask you something?” Simon asked. “seeing as it´s my 18th birthday and so on?”

“You already asked one,” was Raphael´s reply.

“Hah, hah,” Simon deadpanned. “You´re a real party clown. Mothers probably fall over themselves to get you on their children´s parties.”

“No, seriously,” Simon continued. “Why are you still coming? Camille probably gave up on ever getting any information out of me after a few months. And yet, you still came back again and again. Why?”

Raphael didn’t answer right away. How to answer a question for which you didn’t know the answer yourself? How to admit that it was the same question that sometimes kept you awake, making you question what you had done the last few years? What did you say when the person who thawed your frozen heart asks you to be honest?

A balancing act. The glaring abyss underneath his feet. One wrong move, one wrong word and everything would shatter under his hands. After all, words cut deeper than any other weapon.

“Do you know what it´s like?” Raphael asked. “To live your life as a vampire?”

“I don’t, obviously,” Simon responded, willing to play along.

“It´s tedious,” Raphael explained. “It´s tedious and exhausting. The infighting, the intrigue, the Shadowhunters breathing down your neck, only waiting for even the smallest of excuses in order to execute you, rival clans constantly infringing upon your territory to test your strength and the werewolves’ everlasting attempts at eradicating your whole species. It´s the same motions over and over again.

You aren´t. Maybe that´s why I bother with you.” _You´re my reprieve. My refuge when the disgust for my own species becomes too much. My shelter when Camille is about to break down my very self._ So much that Raphael only admitted in the solitude of his mind. So much that would never make its way over his lips. Locked away, the key thrown out.

“So, I´m like…the boring alternative to your Game of Thrones?” Simon joked.

“I have no clue what you are talking about, _idiota_ ,” Raphael deadpanned.

“Next time I´m gonna give you the books,” Simon narrowed his eyes at the vampire. “You gonna read them and you´ll cry with every Stark death.”

“Are they another of your ‘classics’?”

“You know nothing, Raphael Santiago,” Simon exclaimed. It was probably another of his pop culture references, but it flew right over Raphael´s head.

“Shit!” Simon cursed loudly, which earned him some irritated stares from the customers sitting at the table around them. Raphael just raised an eyebrow at him.

“19 years later!” Simon exclaimed. “I´m too late! I have places to be and people to see.” With a little bit too much haste, Simon put his things back in his bag and took one last gulp from his coffee.

“Before you go,” Raphael interrupted Simon´s rash departure. “Take this.” He handed over his present for Simon.

Raphael had long thought about; about what to gift Simon. The thought that Simon probably didn’t expect anything and Raphael therefore didn’t even need to get him a present never crossed the vampire´s mind. He antagonized over the choice, though. He knew nothing about current youth culture; didn’t know what was appropriate or not _(‘You aren´t allowed to like High School Musical in public, Raphael, liking HSM is the new being gay!’, ‘I don´t even know what High School Musical is.’)_ or what Simon liked or disliked.

He knew something else, though; he knew that Simon was curious, that he liked history and that he always sought to understand – to look behind the curtains and see what was real – and that he didn’t suffer the same bigotry as many others did. He was genuinely interested in the history of the Downworld.

So, when his attention had been caught by a certain book, it wasn’t much of a question anymore.

“Happy birthday, Mundane.” And before Simon could say anything, Raphael took off. There was too much confusion in his mind, too much of a rush of warmth in his body, too many questions he had to answer for himself, before he could answer Simons’.

* * *

“I wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” Simon just shot a look at Raphael that told the vampire exactly what the Mundane thought of him being deliberately obtuse.

“For _Historarium Filii Noctis_ ,” Simon clarified. “I mean, this book must be worth a fortune and you gave it to me. I´m living in constant fear now that I spill coffee over it or something.”

“Don´t mention it,” Raphael replied nonchalantly. “Now I don´t have to deal with your ignorance any longer.” _You deserve it._

“Hey!” Simon exclaimed. “As someone who doesn’t even know who Hannah Montana is, I´d be very quiet when it comes to accusing others of ignorance.” Raphael just rolled his eyes at the boy. Snark and sarcasm, their old patterns – he could deal with that. Simon leaned forward, mirth shining in his eyes.

“You could say, I have the best of both worlds.” He started having a laughing fit and Raphael asked himself again why he even liked the Mundane.

* * *

“You´re still hanging around that mundane, aren’t you?” Camille said, more a statement than a question. Raphael didn’t react to her, instead he continued sipping on his glass of blood. Camille, though, stalked around him like a predator haunting its prey and even though Raphael hated to admit it, her close proximity made him nervous.

“I can smell it on you,” she continued as she ran her fingers over Raphael´s shoulders, making the hair on his back stand up. He wanted her as far away from him as possible, but Camille had never cared about borders, be they physical or psychological. “I can smell coffee, paper and his musk.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Oh, Raphael,” she exclaimed.

“What do you want, Camille?” Raphael finally gritted out. “I´m your most loyal after all.” Camille through her head back and laughed.

“Well,” she commented. “We both now that´s a lie. What I want, though?” She snagged the glass out of Raphael´s hand and took a big gulp. “Nothing.” She grinned, her teeth coloured red by all the blood. “I already have everything I want.” Raphael raised his eyebrows quizzically at her. Camille leaned forward, until her mouth was right next to his ear.

“You,” she whispered. “One wrong step, one failed mission and you know who will suffer for it.” Raphael´s whole body went rigid at her threat.

“I´m so glad that we reached an understanding,” Camille smirked, emptied the glass and put it back into Raphael´s hand. “It would have been terribly disappointing otherwise.” Then she strutted out of the room.

For now, she had won their battle of wills and she knew it.

* * *

“Tomorrow´s Clary´s birthday,” Simon said. “We´re gonna celebrate at Pandemonium.”

“Do I look like I care?” Raphael replied. This was what they were about: snark, sarcasm and a little bit of honesty in between. Besides, Raphael really didn’t want to hear what Simon was doing with this girl. He deserved better than just being reduced to a sidekick. “Doesn´t that club belong to Magnus?”

“Yeah, it does,” Simon confirmed. “And it´s the hottest location in New York. You´re really fortunate if you manage to get in.” He smiled and somehow that made the knot in Raphael´s chest when he thought about him and that girl disappear. “But luckily I have some connections.”

“You mean, you nagged Magnus for so long that he agreed to give you whatever you want if you just left him in peace?” Raphael smirked.

“Haha,” Simon grumbled. “You´re the master of humour. You truly are. That´s not gonna change the fact that Clary and Maureen are gonna flip when I tell them.” He grinned, so stupidly happy.

“That´s if the girl won´t kill you because you were late to that performance of yours,” Raphael commented idly and Simon blanched.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he cursed as he hastily threw his things in his bag and rushed out of the doors.

“One day I´ll make you come to our performances!” he shouted at Raphael.

“Hell is likelier to freeze over than me willingly listen to your Indie grunge!” Raphael shot back and Simon just stuck out his tongue at him before the doors closed after him.

* * *

The incessant ringing of his cellphone tore Raphael out of his reverie.

“What?!” he hissed into the device after he had accepted the call. “ _Dios_ , Magnus, I swear if the world isn’t ending I´ll end you…”

“The Shadowhunters have Simon,” Magnus interrupted him. Raphael´s whole body went rigid. “He invoked the Ward Clause of the Accords.”

Silence. Then: “I´ll be there.”


End file.
